


Control - YUWIN

by S0FTHYUCK



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Barebacking, Blood, Choking, Cock Slapping, Come Swallowing, Crying, Dirty Talk, M/M, Painplay, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Scratching, Slut Shaming, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Verbal Humiliation, power bottom sicheng, submissive top yuta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22072756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S0FTHYUCK/pseuds/S0FTHYUCK
Summary: Sicheng's had a bad day. Luckily, Yuta is waiting for him at home.ORSicheng lets his frustrations out on Yuta by ordering him into submission.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta
Kudos: 148
Collections: NCT Oneshots





	Control - YUWIN

**Author's Note:**

> i loved the idea for this like, so, so much and i tried matching it with other couplings but i just can't? this is yuwin through and through :( <3
> 
> this fic is more winwin focused, so the stuff like the pain inflicting and choking is mainly his pov. it wont matter too much cus there's still yuta pov but just to let yall know thats intentional, im avoiding the sub pov on purpose!
> 
> warning: they don't use a condom and also sicheng break yuta's skin. i do NOT advocate this and please do not try this unless it's a controlled situation. it's unsanitary and very unsafe and i dont want yall thinking it's okay just cus yuwin do it :)
> 
> ily kittens and enjoy <3
> 
> p.s why do i love making yuwin have unhealthy relationships like i need to stop theyre friends irl what am i doing

Sicheng keens over, clutching at his stomach as a wave of nausea passes through him.

“Hey, you good?” Sicheng feels a warm hand on his back, followed by a couple of pats. He glances to his side, making eye contact with Kun’s concerned gaze.

“Let’s just get home,” he mutters, turning away and leaning his head against the blacked out cool glass of their van.

As the vehicle starts up, the bashing against their doors subside slightly, their _fans_ clearly suddenly afraid for their own safety. Sicheng wishes they cared just as much for WayV, but he’s an idol, so he mentally slaps himself for thinking in such a way.

The journey back to the dorm is quiet, each member in various states of shock from the swarm at the airport. They had previously been full to the brim with exhilaration and anticipation with their return to Korea, knowingly squealing at the thought of meeting with their members again.

Now, they patiently wait for the van to swerve into their dorm’s car park.

Sicheng’s former repulsive mood had been replaced with anger, a kind of frustration manifesting. He’s about to swing open the car door even as vehicle continues moving, when his phone obnoxiously buzzes in his back pocket.

 _Yuta_ 20:19  
are you nearly home????

A sinister smirk finds its way to Sicheng’s mouth, and he’s suddenly reminded of the grovelling man that has been spamming his inbox all day. The previous stress rinses from his mind, a newfound excitement arising.

He quickly follows the rest of his members, leaving Yuta’s message on read as they sluggishly lug their suitcases to the dorm and bid their manager goodnight. They walk through the open doors to their building and are immediately greeted with tight embraces and wet kisses from the rest of NCT. Sicheng himself receives a couple of comforting hugs, ranging from Taeyong to Johnny, who almost squeezes the very life from his body with joy. To keep their meeting with the members brief, Sicheng excuses himself with the excuse of an upset stomach (ultimately not far off from the truth). He passes the various excitement-filled bodies until he meets the eye of the man he’s been looking for.

Without further explanation, he hooks his fingers into Yuta’s hand, smiling sweetly and bashfully fluttering his eyelashes.

“Hyung,” he whispers, earning a soft coo from the man. He reaches up and runs his fingertips through Sicheng’s messy hair, before dragging them down and brushing his thumb against his bottom lip.

“I missed you,” Yuta replies, expression incredibly fond as his brows knit together, an action laced with nostalgia. Sicheng shudders at the emotion, suddenly reminded at his intentions.

“Let’s go to your room, hyung.”

Sicheng isn’t fond of letting his emotions overcome him, but when he does, it’s almost always anger that swims its way to the surface. He supposes this is how he ends up shoving Yuta into his desk chair, uncaring as the older boy winces when the back of his knees harshly hit the leather.

“Winnie?” Yuta ponders, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to reach out for the younger. “What’s wrong?”

“Shut up,” he replies, tone exasperated, violently swatting away Yuta’s hands and dropping to his knees.

“Hey, hey,” the elder coos, grimacing when his arms knock onto the arms of the chair, “are you good?” He shuffles back a little when Sicheng places one palm on each of his knees. Usually, he’d shudder at the touch, proud to have the younger initiate physical affection. However, he misses the chance to react so smoothly, watching as the serenity drains from Sicheng’s eyes, hunger now replaced.

“Don’t talk,” Sicheng orders quietly as he reaches forward, fumbling with the elder’s zipper.

Yuta can’t help but admit a pang of arousal sweeping his abdomen at the command, yet concern remains. His hands grip the sides of the chair, knuckles slowly being painted pale, as he wearily observes Sicheng hurriedly rolling his fingers under the waistband of both his boxers and his trousers.

“Up,” the younger demands again; Yuta follows suit, raising his hips from the seat momentarily and shivering when Sicheng swiftly yanks down both layers. His soft cock bounces on his pelvis, but he has little time to be embarrassed, groaning when strong fingers are curled around his length and an immediate tugging motion begins.

“Had a bad day,” the boy on his knees grumbles, gaze fixed on the latter’s crotch. He whimpers softly at the sensation of the dick growing in his hands, its throbbing sending immediate tingles to his own groin. “You gonna help me make it better?” He lifts his eyeline to see the elder staring back at him, lips parted as gentle pants cascade from them. He nods obediently and Sicheng hums, “You gonna let me suck you off?”

This time, he doesn’t wait for a reply, leaning in and filthily running his tongue along the underside of Yuta’s length, holding his dick down to his stomach with his grip. He receives a groan in response, the noise sounding like it’d been brewing for a while now. Sicheng basks in his effect on his friend, a few licks in and an already half hard cock in his face.

Sicheng decides today isn’t the day for mercy, continuing the long, strenuous licks to only one area of Yuta’s cock. He keeps his eyes open, fluttering his lashes every time his tongue dips into the crevice between the head and his shaft, salivating at the desire to go further. He wants to plunge the dick into his throat, choke and gag messily until he feels like his head is going to implode. He _desperately_ wants to, but for the first time in what seems like forever, Sicheng is _in control_.

“Ah,” Yuta involuntarily twitches his hip upward, prodding the younger’s nose with his tip. Sicheng backs off, once again returning his eyes to lock with the elder.

“Don’t you dare move,” he whispers, his tone accidentally more sinister than he intended. He finds that he doesn’t mind the hint of fear in the man’s eyes as he gently nods his head back. A cruel smile plays at his lips and he cautiously continues his hand movements on his length. “You’re already so hard, hyung. That’s cute.” He places a kiss to Yuta’s now-damp head. “Or is it desperate? I can’t tell, not yet anyway.”

His train of thought receives another groan. He feels his chest swell with pride at Yuta’s obedience and decides to give in slightly, taking the boy’s tip into his mouth and suckling slightly.

As he continues his actions, he closes his eyes, finds himself thinking, perhaps too hard, about the day’s earlier events. He takes in Yuta deeper, dribble cascading down the side of his length, and the thoughts slowly dissipate. He makes it halfway down before the stretch around his lips becomes strenuous, so he pulls back, his trial of spit glistening against the now completely erect groin.

“Really quick,” Sicheng mumbles, lust clouding his vision as he sloppily jerks off the man in front of him, “is it okay if I’m a little rough with you, hyung?” He looks up at the elder, and he nods frantically. “What are your boundaries?” He asks again, frowning when he receives no response. “You can talk.”

“Yeah, I, ah,” Yuta’s hips stutter as Sicheng increases his movements, “anything, shit, _anything_.”

Sicheng smirks and instantly takes the elder back into his mouth, returning to halfway and bobbing once to test the waters. He lets go of Yuta’s shaft, placing each of his hands in the dips of the man’s hips, holding him in place. He scrunches his nose and hollows his cheeks, disgustingly lewd, wet noises emitting from the scene as he continues his motions.

“God, Sicheng,” Yuta flat-out moans, throwing his head back and leaning deeper into the chair. He shudders as the younger mumbles something around his dick, the vibrations travelling past his groin and up his spine. “W-what was that, baby?”

Sicheng feverishly pulls of Yuta, letting the dripping length flop against his clothed stomach. “I said shut up, and don’t call me _baby_.” He growls, moving to take the older in his mouth again.

“Then what do I call you?”

“Shut up,” the younger repeats, “nothing, call me nothing, you don’t deserve to call me shit.” He reaches out with his hand and wraps his fingers around the dick once more.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yuta mutters, a flush of humiliation washing over him as the elder stops everything, holding his length and nothing else. There’s a moment of silence, followed by a gentle yelp from Yuta as Sicheng swats at the dick in his hand.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” He whispers, clenching his own thighs as he watches a patch of Yuta’s skin slowly pan into a rosy crimson. “Did you like that?” He asks again, noting as Yuta lifts his feet onto demi pointe. “Did you _really_ just get off on me slapping your cock?”

Sicheng knows he’ll get no response. Yuta’s not a bratty-type fuck, he’s almost always in control either way, and even then, he’d accept almost any behaviour without punishment. He watches as Yuta weakly nudges his cock with no stimulation whatsoever, the twitches practically oozing arousal.

“I’ve decided,” he mumbles, “you’re desperate. It’s far from cute, it’s _disgusting_.” He raises his hand and flicks the side of the length, evilly chuckling when the length bounces from side to side before tensing even more. He sits back on his heels, places his hands on his thighs and watches as the elder gets off on nothing, shuffling his hips and breathily whimpering at the remainder of the sting.

“You look like you’re heating up, hyung,” he frowns, feigning care, a gentle pout forming on his mouth as he looks up at the dishevelled state of the man. “Are you close or something? You really gonna come, just because I slapped your fucking cock?” As he speaks, he finds himself in disbelief when Yuta eagerly shakes his head _yes_ , and Sicheng releases a small shocked chuckle. He reaches under the hem and discards his own top, dropping it to the floor and shivering when the carpet rubs against his knees.

“ _Ah_ , hm,” Yuta whines, his thighs now clenching together on the seat.

“Don’t come yet,” Sicheng says, tone stern, cold, “don’t you fucking dare.” His voice stammers a little as he stands, his own hard-on stimulation by the constricting material of his jeans. “Get up and strip, then the bed on your knees.” Yuta frowns slightly at his, shakily straightening up and tugging down his trousers and boxers.

“Sicheng?” He whispers, watching as the younger mirrors his movements, leaving Sicheng standing stark naked in the middle of his room. He groans a little, breathing uneven, as his eyes lavishly lap up the newfound bare skin waiting to be marked.

“Take this off,” Sicheng prods at his top, ignoring his query and manoeuvring to the side of the bed and opening a drawer, searching.

“Am I getting fucked?” Yuta whispers, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt, sudden fear overcoming him.

“Does it matter?” Sicheng mutters, partially to himself. He turns around, a bottle of lube in his palm, and sneers at the sight. “You’re really bad at following instructions. I said, strip and get on the fucking bed.”

Sicheng isn’t very physically strong. He has quarrelled with many other members over this for a while, claiming that his dance training had some sort of toll on his muscles, but it was obvious, he was just _weak_. So when Yuta gives in, stripping and shuffling onto his knees in the middle of the bed, he exhales a sigh of relief as he doesn’t have to manhandle anyone today.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” Sicheng whispers as he makes his way around the side of the bed, smirking when he sees Yuta instantly relax. He kneels behind the elder, dropping the bottle onto the mattress and reaching out to place his hands on Yuta’s waist. “We’re gonna need a safe word.”

“Holy fuck,” Yuta exhales dramatically, tilting his head a little and whining when hot breath hits his bare skin, “what the hell are you planning on doing to me?”

“What’s your safe word, hyung?” Sicheng continues, dragging his lips down the length of Yuta’s neck, flicking his tongue out against the heated flesh.

“Melon,” Yuta mumbles, smiling slightly, hoping the goofy word might relieve Sicheng of the intense mood he’s created. It doesn’t work. Instead, he feels a hand gently pressing at his spine, and he falls face first into a pillow. He’s about to complain, when Sicheng interlocks his fingers to Yuta’s hair, holding him there.

“Stay.” The coldness in the younger’s tone makes Yuta whine in annoyance, his hands finding refuge against the sheets and curling into frustrated fists of longing.

Sicheng releases the grip on his waist but keeps one hand in his hair. He drags his palm up and down Yuta’s sides, smiling menacingly when the elder winces.

“When I say my day was bad, hyung, I mean _really_ bad.” He hushes, bending his fingers and grazing the surface of Yuta’s spine with his nails. The bone arches at this, begging for more, following his touch. “So many fucking reporters at the airport, saesangs. People just can’t keep their hands to themselves, can they?” He lifts his hand to meet the other, cupping the back of Yuta’s neck and stuffing his face into the pillow even more. It only lasts for a moment, before he’s letting go and Yuta’s muffled coughing echoes around the room. He returns one hand to the man’s back, running his middle finger down the centre of his spine once more. “But you know I don’t like talking about how I feel, right? Why don’t I show you?” With this, he digs his fingers in deeper, applying more pressure to the skin and drawing a single line of red down Yuta’s back, an inch long. The man writhes under him, fingers clenching and unclenching, feet rubbing against Sicheng’s thighs.

“Does that _hurt_?” Sicheng coos mockingly, his mouth practically drooling at the sight of the crimson liquid now brimming to the surface. The skin finally breaks, and it dribbles out, a long, thin drip falling down Yuta’s side. “I asked you a question, slut.”

“Y-yeah,” Yuta mumbles, craning his head to the side and breathing heavily, “hurts a, a lot, shit.”

“But you like it, mm?”

“Yes, god, I do,” Yuta shakily whines, humiliation swooping down and shovelling into his head. He feels a warm blush fill his face as the following words slip out. “Do it again, please, _please_.”

“Can’t believe you’re actually enjoying this,” Sicheng chuckles, dipping his finger in the stream of liquid and drawing a heart of blood on Yuta’s back, “didn’t expect you to be such a pain whore.”

“Can I fuck you? Please?” Yuta whimpers, hands flapping around behind him and clutching onto Sicheng’s bare thigh.

“No,” the younger states, removing his hand from Yuta’s hair and slapping away the movements, “don’t _touch_ me.” He spits out, dragging two fingers down the man’s shoulder blade in response, shuddering as the flesh cracks, scarlet lines immediately blossoming.

“Ah, ah, _ow_ ,” Yuta catches his bottom lip between his teeth, suckling gently as his hands fall to his side. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore the immense amount of precome now dribbling to the mattress.

“Turn over,” Sicheng demands, sitting back onto his heels and watching as Yuta wearily heaves his body around, spreading his legs naturally and clutching the pillow with his hands. “Good boy,” he coos, placing one hand on the thigh nearest to him and rubbing soothing circles. “Does it hurt your back?”

“Yes,” Yuta nods, confused slightly between Sicheng’s caring and nonchalant attitudes, “but it’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” Sicheng smiles sweetly, “you’re gonna watch me get off now, alright?”

Yuta can do nothing but watch as Sicheng reaches next to him and pumps a few globs of lube on his hand. He swivels his hips and lifts himself to straddle Yuta… _backwards_. The elder puffs out some air at this surprise, face no more than a ruler’s distance from Sicheng’s soft behind. He naturally bucks his hips up a little, his hands itching to grab at the soft flesh and grope it until it melded into his palms.

“How is it possible that you got _harder_?” Sicheng mutters, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around Yuta’s aching length, giving a few short tugs before letting it go once again. He tuts with disbelief, reaching his lube covered hand to his behind and sliding his knees further apart on the mattress. He leans forward, shivering when he runs a finger down the middle of his crack, over his twitching hole. It’d been a while, he’ll admit, but the sensation of his puckered muscle practically sucking in his first finger is something he’ll never miss. He hisses at the feeling, immediately pumping the wet finger in and out at a regular pace, hoping the discomfort to leave as soon as it arrived. It doesn’t, so he adds another finger, this time halting to feel the delicious stretch that he had long gone without.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, head falling forward and resting on Yuta’s thigh. He doesn’t pump, instead deciding to scissor his insides a little, feeling around. He’s not at the right angle to find his prostate, knows he needs to go deeper, knows he _needs_ a cock. But it doesn’t stop him from moaning like a bitch in heat, whines tumbling from his mouth with every movement.

“You look so hot,” Yuta whispers, and his breath hitting Sicheng’s behind makes the younger tingle with excitement. “Wanna taste you.”

“Oh, hyung,” Sicheng shakes his head, his original plan of not faltering now going out the window, “no, I- _fuck_.”

“You want me to eat you out, Sichengie?”

Sicheng’s head snaps around at that. He twists his body and removes his hand from his insides, uses the lube-soaked palm to grab Yuta’s chin and force him to look up. “Don’t call me that, what the fuck did I say?”

He gives up his charade, pushing Yuta’s face away and lifting himself off the elder, straddling him forward this time. He reaches behind him and pumps Yuta’s length a few times, coating it in a mixture of his own moisture and lube, his thighs tensing as he manoeuvres back…

“Wait, wait,” Yuta says, his hands flying to Sicheng’s hips, “what about a condom?”

“I couldn’t give a fuck right now,” he whispers, aligning his hole with Yuta’s tip and pushing in to the head.

“Oh _fuck_ , fuck,” Yuta whines, his hands tightening on Sicheng’s waist. The younger’s eyes prick with tears at the stretch, but he battles through, sinks further down until he’s halfway. “Take it slow, slowly.” Yuta says, concern plastered across his face, mixed with clouded lust.

Sicheng snarls and grabs the man’s wrists, pinning them next to his head. “Don’t tell me what to do.” He spits out, throwing his head back and plunging Yuta’s dick deeper until he’s completely nestled in Sicheng’s heat. “I feel good, right?” The younger whispers, leaning down and resting his forehead against Yuta’s. “Tell me I feel good.”

“Y-you do, fuck,” Yuta says curling his hands into fists and trying desperately not to fuck up into the poor boy. “So, so fucking good. I missed you.”

“Stop,” Sicheng shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut, “don’t get sappy, I’m about to ride you.”

“But I did,” Yuta whimpers, an unexpectedly a sob arises from his throat.

“For fuck’s sake,” Sicheng groans, pulling his head away and looking at the ceiling. He’s not adjusted yet, but he lifts his hips and drops once, Yuta’s dick sliding in and out in a slick, filthy movement. His hands let go of Yuta’s wrists and slam onto his chest, holding his body down so Sicheng can find a steady rhythm without worrying about his uncontrolled spasms.

“So, so pretty,” Yuta mewls, his hands coming up to his own hair and ringing through the locks, trying to ignore the wave of emotions that hit him. He can’t help it, the sight in front of him is too much to handle, the boy he _adored_ using his body, his dick, to make his day better.

Sicheng stares at the ceiling, his eyes unmoving as he continues his movements. The feeling of Yuta’s cock sliding against his walls is unbearably painful, but each time his head lodges at the top of his hole he whines, the feeling coursing through his veins and landing at his cock. He’s never had anything better than Yuta’s dick, and after his first taste, nothing else will do.

He drags himself down to reality when Yuta’s hips stutter against his own, forcing his length in deeper, the tip colliding with Sicheng’s prostate with more force than he would’ve liked. A pang of agony shoots up his spine and he pounds a fist against Yuta’s chest.

“Don’t move, fucking hell,” he says, and when he looks down, he’s met with a ridiculous sight. Yuta’s head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, tears splattered across his cheeks. Sicheng stops his movements for a moment to drag a palm up Yuta’s chest. His fingers gently scrape the sides of the elder’s neck, pausing hesitantly for a moment. “Can I-?” he asks, tapping the man’s jugular.

“Y-yeah,” the latter breathes out, removing his hands from his hair and stretching his arms out to the sides of the bed, clinging.

Sicheng smirks to himself, swivelling his hips and basking in the sensation of Yuta’s tip prodding his prostate. His fingers slowly curl around Yuta’s neck, squeezing softly. He feels the vibrations of a groan, and so he squeezes harder, fingertips pressed just under his jaw, closer to the ear than the chin.

Sicheng begins his rising and falling motion again, this time moving swifter, having been stretched by Yuta’s girth. He watches Yuta tenderly gasp, still able to breathe but choked up by the grasp around his flesh. Sicheng releases momentarily before gripping once again, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head at the amount of control handed to him at once.

“Gonna come,” Yuta hisses through the constriction on his neck.

“Not yet,” Sicheng snaps, moving his free hand and quickly jerking off his own neglected cock. “You come when, _ah_ , when I say.”

Sicheng lets go of Yuta’s neck and slams his hand to the pillow, arching his back as a familiar prickling knot forms. He leans forward once more, face buried into Yuta’s neck, frustration seeping through his pores and weariness washing over him. He stops pumping his dick, wrist now uncomfortably lodged in between their sweating bodies.

“Y-you tired?” Yuta whispers in his ear, feeling the boy’s hips gently stutter against his own as his riding halts.

“A little,” Sicheng nods into Yuta’s neck and his tongue laps at the salty stain of tears. He whines as Yuta gently pulls out.

“Want me to take you?”

With Yuta’s gentle yet desperate tone, his previous anger now dispersed, he can’t help but pathetically beg _yes please_. Yuta brings his hands to Sicheng’s hips and holds the boy down, bending his own knees and bringing his cock back up to meet with the now gaping hole. With one swift movement, he plunges back into his warmth, instantaneously starting at an unforgiving pace, chasing his thirst frantically. He feels Sicheng pant into his skin as he finds the boy’s prostate once more and stutter-fucks him briefly, hoping to satisfy the younger before himself.

“’m close,” Sicheng hushes, “y-you can come when, _mm_ , when you want.”

“Where?”

“ _Inside_.”

And with that, Yuta’s purging his insides, shooting his sperm into the younger’s shaking body. Sicheng tenses as the warmth floods his behind, but he has little time to recover before Yuta is pulling him off his dick and pushing him onto his back. Within seconds, Yuta’s mouth is curled around Sicheng’s throbbing length, hungrily sucking at every inch of his cock and pleading for the younger to come. Sicheng does as he wants, his cock twitching as little spurts of come jut onto his stomach.

While he lies there, hands curled on his chest, he feels Yuta’s tongue searching under his now flaccid cock, licking the underside of his balls, a stripe down his crack. It takes two seconds for him to note how Yuta sucks at the boy’s hole, gathering as much of his own come as possible in his mouth before gulping obnoxiously. Sicheng’s thighs tense tightly, and he gently swats at Yuta’s head, irritated with oversensitivity. Grinning mischievously, the elder lifts himself until he’s eye level to the younger.

“I really did miss you, you know.”

“I can’t believe you cried.”

“Say it back.”

“Say what?”

“Say you missed me.”

A beat.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

**Author's Note:**

> leave kudos and comment if you enjoyed <3 ily
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/LOVRCHN)


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